


You Make My Head Spin

by under_the_dork_tree



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Butch being really dumb, F/M, LONE WANDERER BEING COMPLETELY BISEXUAL, Swearing, dancing to pretty songs from the fifties, super sassy lone wanderer, three dog knowing stuff as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 23:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_the_dork_tree/pseuds/under_the_dork_tree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lone Wanderer and Butch go to find some music for Three Dog in an abandoned record store, but get a little carried away</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make My Head Spin

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i have not written fanfiction for probably fifty years i'm sorry that this sucks so bad and i'm also kind of sorry that my writing style changes like three times throughout this fic. also if you want to listen to some AWESOME music go look up the song 'put your head on my shoulder' by paul anka it's such a cute song

Butch raised an eyebrow at his companion’s outstretched arm and let out a laugh. “Sorry, but I don’t dance, nosebleed.” Jamie crossed her arms and huffed at him. “Seriously? Come on, Butchie, have a little fun! It’s not like anybody will see you.” Butch sighed and scratched his head. “I’m not some pansy, go dance with yourself.” “Who said you were a pansy?” Jamie looked around the room, as if she could find a culprit. “I’m not calling you a pansy.” Butch looked at her and contemplated standing up from the record store floor. They’d found the place in pretty good condition. Three Dog had pointed them in it’s direction, and they’d found it easily enough. They didn’t even really have to fight their way into it. They both assumed that nobody really cared much about a bunch of old music. So they spent the day in the place and considered it a sort of vacation from killing things and having near death experiences. Three of the record players worked, so they figured they’d take one back to Megaton for Jamie’s house. The old jukebox she bought sucked, and she liked the music they found in here much more. “Don’t be a sourpuss. Come on,” she pleaded, her face lighting up when one of her favorites came on. Butch had heard this same one come on at least four times that day. He didn’t care, though. He liked the way she closed her eyes and hummed along, swaying her hips and tapping the beat on the table next to her. She reached down and pulled him up herself, but he didn’t fight her. “What’s your deal?” Butch questioned after she’d started singing along in a giddy, high pitched voice. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” She pouted at him. “Um, you’re just acting weird. I haven’t seen you this happy since the night you got drunk at prom.” Ah, good times. “But you haven’t been drinking, so…” She sighed and took his hands again, pulling him forward so they were pressed against each other. “I like, music. What can I say?” she smiled at him. “It helps take my mind off things.” The song changed to a slower one, and Jamie took a short breath and rested her head on Butch’s shoulder. She was just tall enough to do so comfortably. Her height was something Butch picked on her for when she was a kid. After all, she was tall. Only about a half an inch shorter than him, and he was tall himself. The lull of the music almost put Butch to sleep, and he almost swore she already was out cold. Her grip on his jacket tightening proved otherwise, though. Her fingers were shaking against his, and her feet were quick to move. She wasn’t born a ballerina, but neither was Butch. He clumsily put his feet wherever hers weren’t, and his predictions were often wrong, so his toes would land on hers, making her giggle at him. “You suck at this, Butchie,” Jamie laughed at him, letting go of his hand and instead draping her arms over his shoulders. Butch kept staring at his feet, trying to avoid kicking her in the shin or tripping the both of them, so he really didn’t notice that her face was probably an inch and a half away from his. He looked up for a second to meet her smiling face and quickly smiled back, his cheeks turning pink. Sure enough, he kicked her a few times, but she just laughed it off. “Jesus, Butch, are you trying to get into a fight?” she said, then kicked him back.  
He felt a little too light-headed to do anything but smile at her. He was knees-weak-vision-clouding-butterflies-in-his-stomach distraught, especially by her white, chapped but still beautiful lips just a movement ahead of his. He wanted to blame the radiation for it all, but he figured it wasn’t the green haze making his heart ache. The music took over, then. “Put your head on my shoulder…” echoed through the room, making them feel like the only two people left in the world. It wasn’t a bad feeling, really. If Butch had to be stuck with one person on the planet for the rest of his life, he’d probably pick her anyway. “hold me in your arms, baby…”  
Jamie was getting a little sick of Butch acting so oblivious to her. Or at least, her totally obvious advances. She figured the ‘dance with me, baby,’ would be enough to push him out of the ‘yeah, i follow her around and carry her stuff’ territory and into the ‘yeah we make out on a regular basis’ territory. But no such luck had come her way, so she told subtlety to go fuck itself and just said it. “Butchie, are you ever gonna kiss me? Or are you just gonna stare like a deer in the headlights?” she whispered. Butch turned red. “What?” he laughed, as if she was being completely absurd. “I’m not.. staring.” Jamie grinned at him, and decided to bridge the gap herself, because Butch was a stubborn assole, to put it plainly. She had forgotten that Butch, despite the fact he oozed charm (ha ha), had little experience with anything ‘romantic’, let alone kissing somebody. Even Christine Kendall didn’t lack the self respect to actually humor the guy and give him some. It also just wasn’t Butch. He was more of a ‘I’ll punch you in the stomach,’ kind of guy, and less of a ‘I just wanna treat a gal right,’ kind of guy. Jamie had almost made out with everyone that was in her class in the vault. Freddie when she was thirteen, Amata when she was fifteen (it was weird. Really weird). Paul when she was sixteen. Susie at prom (when they were both pretty drunk because Butch stole from his mom’s liquor cabinet and spiked the punch. Ah, good times.) She even kissed Wally one time, but it was mostly just to piss him off (she kicked him in the nuts afterwards, so it was worth it.) And then Amata again when she was seventeen (also weird.) Needless to say, she didn’t necessarily lack any knowledge in the art of kissing. Butch seemed taken aback, even after she had given him somewhat of a warning. His eyes looked like they were stuck open, and he was just kind of standing there. It was pretty far from dreamy of him, but what were you expecting. Jamie led a trail of kisses to his neck, where she then rested her head on his shoulder again. “baby, I’m gonna have to teach you a thing or two.” Butch didn’t say anything, and if he was smiling, she would be able to feel it on him. He just felt stiff, though. Like he couldn’t move any of his limbs, and he was holding his breath. “Um, Butchie?” Jamie lifted up her head and looked at him. He was frozen. “You alright?” Butch’s eyes scanned her face. He didn’t know what to do, or say, or how to describe how he felt at that moment, so he just shook his head. “Wait, what? You’re- you’re not alright?” Jamie laughed a little and took a step backwards. Butch couldn’t breath. Holy shit, the girl of his dreams just kissed him and he was going to die of a heart attack or something. It was like he forgot the concept of inhaling and exhaling. And then, of all things he could say, he just blurts out “that… that was intense.” Jamie crossed her arms. “Intense? What the fuck, Butch?” “Um, wait, I mean like…” Oh fuck. She was gonna leave his stupid, sorry ass to the birds. “It was just crazy, man.” “‘Man?’ Butch, are you fucking joking with me right now?” Jamie turned off the music and faced him, waiting for further explanation. What an idiot. What an idiot. Butch couldn’t figure out a way to tell her ‘you make my stomach feel weird and my knees buckle when you look at me’ other than telling her it was ‘intense.’ He shrugged and fiddled with his thumbs. “That’s not um- I meant that you make me feel funny, is all.” “Funny, huh? Well Butch, you make me feel funny, too. Funny as in I want to kiss you one minute but I want to rip your fucking throat out the next, you asshole!” “Woah, easy, easy!” Butch put his hands up in surrender. “Just, let me explain, okay?” “You’ve got one minute to tell me what you mean by ‘funny’, or I’ll beat the shit out of you.” Butch was a little scared now, because she’d fucked his face up in the past. “I just felt kind of sick-” Jamie’s mouth opened in disgust “but sick in the good way! Butterflies in the stomach, sick! And my legs don’t want to work when you smile at me. I mean, you make my head spin, nosebleed. I don’t know why, but I just really like waking up next to you and thinking about all the crazy shit we’re gonna do that day, you know? You make me go soft.” Jamie’s disgust had turned into a smile, and her cheeks were red. It wasn’t like Butch had worded anything much better now, but she understood what he was saying now, and it was much sweeter than anything she’d expected to come out of his mouth. “Hmm,” She bit her lip and took his hand again. “So, you wanna kiss me again, then?” Butch nodded, but before he could get out a word she had already grabbed his face and lunged at him. \--- Three Dog grinned at the two when they walked in with a box full of records and a record player. “Took you two long enough,” he said while he fingered through the box. “Place was full of raiders,” Jamie improvised, shrugging. “Nothing we couldn’t handle, but it took a while to clear them out.” “Oh really,” Three Dog crossed his arms at them and raised an eyebrow. “Um… yeah, really?” “Okay then. Thanks for going on the run for me, kiddies. Left your caps on the table by the door. Don’t get yourselves killed out there.” he warned as he set up the player by his bed, pulling out the first record he saw. “Yeah, gotcha,” Jamie nodded and waved. Three Dog laughed at the two. He didn’t know if they realized how painfully obvious they were. And Three Dog wasn’t no moron, either. He knew well enough that the record store was raider free for quite some time now, just a few mole rats roaming around. He slid his chair over to his broadcasting set up and leaned into the microphone. “My lovely wasteland, you’ll never guess what I’ve got for you. Newww music! That’s right, kiddos, your very favorite vault escapee has brought me back a box of old records, and I plan on wearing ‘em out just for you folks. Big thanks to you, 101, and hey; congrats on the new boyfriend.”


End file.
